


vii; Glass Eyes

by Theo_Thaur



Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [7]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s01e08 I Heard A Rumor, Gen, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theo_Thaur/pseuds/Theo_Thaur
Summary: Whumptober 2020 submission. No 7. "I’VE GOT YOU":Support, Carrying, Enemy to Caretaker.------Vanya does her best to right a wrong. That isn't always easy.(AU: [S1 SPOILER] Harold doesn't come into the house to take Vanya away from Allison, as Allison bleeds out on the floor.)
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: 31 Days of TUA Whump [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951234
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	vii; Glass Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS: gore, anxiety, grief, defeatist thoughts, brief sexual wordage (Klaus).

_vii; Glass Eyes_

Life looked different in grandma Peabody's old house. It was different from the city, everything seemed so much more detached when compared to the ever-present blur of street lamps and headlights. The world stilled, reduced to little more than the clatter of wind chimes and the dappling canopy of trees. But the chimes had begun to hurt her ears and the shade was no longer a refuge, but instead the invading feeling of a slight cold, of goosebumps. Red flags were reduced to being muted gray when the small lakeside house seemed coated in a filter of green, the color of freshly cut, dampened wood. Cackling goose froze mid-flight in the kitchen, their wings spread but never to flap. The mount of a stag hung over a door frame. 

It reminded Vanya of growing up. Her father had taken to having animals embalmed as well, a careful art she had just once heard him speak of, offhandedly. 

_"I am of the persuasion, Number Seven, that there is great beauty to be seen in pain. The blesbok, although dead, lives on to be immortalized. If one cared to look hard enough, you may find that on any given taxidermy, either feathers or fur carefully conceal the bullet hole. You may also have realized that the eyes are not real, but glass. Some lies must be told to give the illusion of reality. Although the killing of an animal is a necessity, I believe that it matters not that the animal was shot, and instead, where it was shot. A well-placed bullet is hidden to the eyes of any onlooking guest," he drew his eyes away from the mount only briefly, looking at her. "But the hunter and the taxidermist both, will forever know where the hole remains."_

\------*´｡*ﾟ

She'd known her powers were drawing around her, coiling up in the rise of her shoulders and the way she looked at Allison with hatred. That was why she'd tried to push Allison away, before it could get too out of control. Vanya had practiced with her powers just that day, felt the swell in her chest even as she focused on practicing for the concert and sent out ripples of energy. She'd known what was happening, known that she'd had trouble controlling when it was no more than her and Harold, safe and alone. The only thing she'd wanted was for Allison to leave, and give her time to process alone, in a place where her outrage didn't set off the clinking of glasses and rocking of chairs, where the windows didn't blow open. Vanya sorted best through things while being alone, or at least that's what she thought --was it instead, because that had just been her only real option for so long? Allison _should've_ left, turned away and gone back into her car and drove off the gravel road to anywhere else in the world. Allison had had no problem doing that in the past, leaving her out to dry just because she'd wanted to play favorites, being taunting and clever and sharp all of the things Vanya had been basically told to her face that she would never be.

It had been hard to speak of starting over, but those words were thrown so casually to Vanya's face. For Allison, it'd probably been much simpler to say. She'd created a new life for herself as a star-studded actress, she wasn't defined by her past. When Allison looked to her future, Vanya imagined that she knew what she saw. Allison didn't cling to her one chance playing first chair after a miraculous disappearance put her as the front-runner on technicality. Allison didn't have to wait around to feel finally loved by someone, when she was surrounded by fans that adored her work as a successful artist. Allison hadn't published a book about the only noteworthy portion of her life _years_ after it happened, because Allison Hargreeves' story was still writing itself.

Allison had been given the space to hit the ground running, and the confidence to know as a young adult that she'd been worth it. Vanya had clamored to everything.

And what little she'd built was being taken away. 

Vanya had started to want Allison to be afraid, it seemed like a start on payment for the fear Vanya had lived with. She'd been plagued without unwanted thoughts for years of living in the academy. _What if the academy's adversaries came, in the dead of night? How would Vanya protect herself when she wasn't expected to be a well-oiled machine, when she'd never had Reginald put in much of an effort to incorporate her into training? What if Reginald decided she wasn't worth the trouble because she lacked powers, and one day decided to put her back up for adoption? How would she cope with growing up in a different home and watching the others rise into superheroes? Would they finally, completely forget about her?_

Allison had still been given the chance to flee, to understand that fear and back away from it as Vanya had done so many times. But Vanya was tired of being afraid and useless, urging Allison as she may to not invoke anything. 

The pity had made it worse. Maybe it had just been a response, tactful to try and minimize danger, but it hadn't soothed her. The last thing Vanya needed was to be talked down to like she wasn't strong enough, like she needed to be coddled because she wasn't special. She didn't want gentle words from the same mouth that had stripped her of a sense of belonging since before she could remember. She didn't want to listen to someone saying they loved her when every action said differently. 

The cacophony had grown too strong, overtaking her. Vanya had been too angry to speak, but Allison's choice to do so --to manipulate her a _second_ time-- was where the line was drawn. If Vanya had let her finish the rumor, who knew what Allison would've done to her. She was protecting herself from pain, from the people that only wanted to tear her up because even after their father was gone, the competition was never over. Like everything had been in that family, that one that emerged with the most blood on their hands won.

But blood was exactly what had made it all the more real. It had welled up across Allison's neck, slanted and abrupt. For one brief moment, it looked no different than the bubbling of blood from any cut, like a flesh wound that just needed to be dabbed at. Naturally, anyone with sense knew it was far, far worse, but it wasn't that everything had just happened at once. At least it wasn't so sudden, not in the same way her outburst of violence had lashed out and withdrawn like the snapping of a whip. Instead, Vanya was positioned to wait, to watch the situation worsen in seconds, blood gushing out as the cut opened and it was indisputable that she'd slit Allison's throat. She'd choked, and Vanya had rushed closer, but only to see the fear in her eyes much closer as Allison put a hand over her throat to try and stop the bleeding. She dropped quickly to the floor, and Vanya leaned over her, trying to look for signs of life. She screamed, unable to draw herself away from Allison's eyes as they stared up at her blankly. Allison had done her makeup that morning, having at one point between their years apart, adopted false eyelashes instead of just mascara. Allison had stood over a mirror and checked to see that her eyeshadow was even on both sides, because she could dress how she wanted without the guidelines Reginald had enforced. At some point in the day, she'd blended out powder, not expecting to find herself _betrayed._ How many normal moments had Allison had that day before travelling to the forsaken cabin?

Vanya forced herself up, mind reeling with guilt, but making her goals suddenly clearer even as she grappled with everything else. She had to try and save Allison while there was still time, but she was on her own, wasn't she? Vanya didn't know where Leonard had gone, but he would've come if he'd been nearby, considering how loudly Vanya had shrieked. She'd caused this, and now she was going to put a stop to it --on her own. There was no other choice. Vanya leaned down, cupping the back of Allison's neck, which was already slicked with warm blood moments after she'd fallen. Haphazardly, Vanya did her best to bring her other arm underneath Allison's knees, to pick her up. There was a size difference between them, a disparity she hadn't fully accounted for until her knees almost buckled, as she did her best to carefully lift Allison. Vanya tried to take extra care to not let the wound open itself any further, to keep Allison's head from lulling over her forearm. Vanya had never been especially strong, and it didn't help that Allison was a few inches taller. This was a job far more suited to Luther, and she felt a wave of self-loathing as she reminded herself that protecting Allison was probably _also_ a job far better suited to Luther,. considering what she'd done. Vanya struggled, her lips forming a tight line, back hunching, but the adrenaline brought with it the ability to ignore her muscles hurting and focus on staying upright. 

Each step felt much heavier than it should, but Vanya took Allison out of the house, shoving open the door with her shoulder and a grunt. Bringing Allison down the stairs was a little more difficult, only because she had to crane her head to see where each stair ended. It was at this point Vanya began to feel out of her depth, but that was only given the time to be a nagging feeling. She was worried that she wasn't moving fast enough, that she should've checked the house for a landline and called nine-one-one. It was obviously too late, she'd made her bed and had to sleep in it, and if Vanya was being honest, even with the strain on her body she didn't want to let go of Allison until she knew her sister was in safe hands. Calling for help, irrational as it sounded, took that away from her. Winding around the house to the front, Vanya tried to keep good pace as gravel crunched under her feet. She wasn't exactly cut out for it, and found herself trying to shift her arms to better hold Allison, her muscles starting to feel sore. 

\------*´｡*ﾟ

Finally, the glossy black Rolls-Royce, Hermes, came into view. Vanya made the last steps faster, nearly collapsing forward at one point by accidentally tripping herself. The car brought with it a new problem. She moved up beside the backseat, trying to hold her hand out to open the door, and managing to clasp her hand around the handle. But, pulling the door open with enough force was an entirely different motion when you had a person between the door and your shoulders. She struggled a moment, doing little more than smearing blood on the car, before stepping back. Trying to let the world settle, to block out the pressure she was under physically and emotionally, Vanya closed her eyes. She was for once so driven that her pessimistic thoughts could be blocked out due to absolute necessity. Birds cawed off in the high branches of trees, bouncing around and communicating amongst themselves. A wind began to sweep through, rattling the leaves, and Vanya drew from that, channeling it and letting it rise in herself, growing stronger. The thought of Leonard, the memory of being in the forest together, and then what she'd done to Allison --all of it flashed in her mind, threatening to overwhelm her because the use of her powers brought back the same rising feeling as before. But Vanya moved past it, focusing her intent closely, letting the noise of the leaves overtake anything else, daunting as it was to let go. 

The door of the car popped open. Vanya breathed a sigh of relief, quickly leaning in to settle Allison across the two seats as best as she could. Reginald would've never been happy about her getting blood on the tan-colored suede upholstery of Hermes, but it didn't matter. Closing the door, Vanya had a brisk pace, newly unencumbered, as she moved into the driver's seat. The engine had been left running, which made sense because Allison had been persuading her to get into the car. Quickly putting on her seatbelt, Vanya glanced over to her left and saw a blue folder sitting on the passenger's seat. She picked it up, skimming through it. Harold's face stared up from a page. It was a mugshot. Vanya looked away, checking through the other pages. On another document, which she took between her thumb and forefinger and still managed to get a bloody thumbprint on, there was a map. Her hand stuck to the paper, but she realized Allison --or possibly Diego, somehow?-- had made directions on how to get from the nearest town to the cabin. Putting her foot on the gas and peeling away, Vanya began to navigate the rural area, looking between the backwards instructions and the road. 

\------*´｡*ﾟ

Vanya made it into town, having cut a few corners and drove mostly with one tight-knuckled hand. It wasn't too hard to spot the hospital, which likely had a bit of a reach considering the number of farms she'd passed. Vanya pulled in front of the building, brakes screeching. She lurched forward, but ignored it, unbuckling her seatbelt and springing out of the car. Her heart thumped in her ears as she pushed open the large double-doors of the entrance. There was a lady sitting at the front desk, a few people sitting in chairs in a sort of reception area. "I need help, please. My sister's out in my car, it's an emergency," she burst out to the woman at the desk, who had evidently noticed the blood on her sweater and hands. 

She watched the next moments pass by, beginning to decompress but never taking her eyes off of Allison. Her vitals were checked, and Allison was put onto a gurney. After being told that her sister still had a pulse, she provided some basic details. It was safer and easier to lie and say there'd been a mugging, although she regretted it when she started to get asked where and how the mugging had happened. She'd been admonished slightly for taking matters into her own hands rather than waiting for an ambulance, and Vanya felt foolish for her choice. She was made to sit in the waiting room and filled out a form, once she'd carefully scrubbed the blood from her hands. She couldn't answer everything on the questionnaire, and although it could probably wait, it was embarrassing how little she actually knew for sure, like serious medical issues or any medication Allison had been on. 

\------*´｡*ﾟ

Sat down quietly, Vanya idled, the form turned in as complete as she could make it. Most of the visitors to the hospital also in the front room had stopped giving her glances. Vanya tapped her shoes on the tiled linoleum. Everything was sterile. The noise of doctors and nurses, doors opening and shutting, was a little more off in the distance. It should've been soothing to sit and have nothing to do, but it left her to her guilt. If she'd been Allison, she wouldn't have wanted to wake up to the person that had attacked her. That gave Vanya a thought. She rose more quickly to do it than she actually felt ready for, but pushed ahead and asked the woman at the desk if there was any way she could make a call. Vanya was directed to a phone. Having not left the house enough to need it, and not been asked to remember in years, one might assume she didn't know what to dial to privately reach the Umbrella Academy. But, even for her, contact information amongst many other things, was something drilled into her mind by Reginald. How would she answer their questions? Vanya clenched her teeth, brow furrowing as she debated on continuing to key in the phone number. No, it had to happen. 

Vanya held her breath, bringing the phone up to her ear and waiting. Would there be anyone around to answer? Did the number still work? 

She heard a click as someone picked up. Then a short pause. "Hello there sexy, you've reached the line of a thousand fantasies, I am Klaus, your _wonderfully_ erotic phone sex operator for tonight," a voice crooned.

"Stop bothering the telemarketers and hang up already, I'm trying to have a family meeting here, thick-skull!" A voice yelled, which Vanya heard only faintly. 

"No," she said softly, before speaking a little louder. "No, it's Vanya."

"Ohohoh Vanny!" Klaus answered, perking up a little. "So glad you're here, guys it's Vanya!" His voice faded slightly as he turned the phone away to address Five and whomever else was present. 

"Yeah. I pieced that together. Give me the phone," Five ordered, which she again had to strain to hear, though Five wasn't trying to be discreet in his conversation with Klaus either. 

"I'm trying to talk! I wanna tell her about what happened with _Luther_ this morning," he said, voice swaying to emphasize Luther's name, as part of some inside joke. "Hey Vanny, sorry about that. I'm currently on my tip toes and trying to hold the phone up high so Five's grabby hands can't reach,"

"Okay, but--" Vanya was interrupted.

"Sorry about him," Five's voice cut in. 

"That's not fair, you can't just pause time on me!" Five's only response to that was a sigh.

"Listen, where are you? There's an apocalypse in two days, we need everyone in one place. Does this have anything to do with the so-called 'Leonard Peabody'? Vanya, that man is bad news, if you're still with him, _get away._ He wants us dead."

"... Uhm, actually, I'm in the hospital. St. Michaels', it's near Jackpine Road."

"What? Why?"

"It's a lot to explain," which, although not untrue, also correlated to Vanya not wanting to explain herself individually, as well as not crying in front of a reception area after showing up covered in blood and demanding help. But Five was also the person she felt like she could trust, out of anyone in the family. He might not understand it, but he'd listen. "I hurt Allison. Badly," she said, very quietly. "E-everything got out of control I… it just happened. I'm sorry. She's okay for now. Please don't tell Luther yet, I want to tell him myself." It was good to confess, but there was a long and uncomfortable stretch of silence, and she was worried Five had hung up. 

"...Understood. Take care, Vanya. We're on our way."


End file.
